Hello again everyone! Long time no see with this story so I hope this will be worth the wait. Thanks as always to everyone who reads/reviews/otherwise supports this story and a very big and special thanks this time goes to BrynnaRaven (more on that below in my ending notes) and to EmoryRose for helping with this chapter. This chapter takes place just before the last chapter of FAWH and a little bit after it, but is from the perspective of the BTW characters. Enjoy!

Chapter 8-Face of War

Late Winter 1759

Ethan struggled to hold the rifle crossways in his hands while making his way through the snow on his snowshoes or kahwen:kare. They were supposed to make it easier to walk through the snow since they helped keep your feet on top of it rather than sinking down through the snow, but they felt awkward to him still. Anen:taks had showed him how to strap them on to his moccasins when the first deep snowfall had hit Canajoharie back in the late fall and had shown him how to walk in them but it wasn't as easy as it looked. Especially with carrying the rifle that Ongewasgone had loaned him. Trying to readjust his grip on it, he felt his legs start to tangle up and Thayendanegea grabbed his upper arm and pulled him straight. "Satatennikon:raren, ri'ken:a'." "Nia:wen." Ethan mumbled, embarrassed. Thayendanegea nodded, giving him a small smile and friendly slap on the shoulders. "Spread your hands more on the rifle, and your feet as well. That will give you more stability." He demonstrated what he had just said. Ethan did so, and they continued on their patrol. His cousin was right; he moved easier and more in control of himself.

Together, they continued to make their way around the edges of the Palatine settlement that marked the larger boundary of Canajoharie, both keeping their gazes out towards the forest beyond the snow-covered fields. Ever since word had come from the Oneida about a week before that there were joint war parties of Frenchmen and their Huron and Ottawa allies raiding along the frontier, both the Mohawk and Palatines of Canajoharie had been watchful. As with many other things that Ethan had noticed in their community, they worked together. The amount of men and boys guarding the entrance to the palisade had increased, and there were watchers now that guarded the entrance of the road that led into the settlement as well. Still others took turns patrolling the woods or the boundary of the settlement, like they did now. Thayendanegea had come up to Ethan as soon as he had joined their usual group of Anen:taks, Gunter, Ona:to and Ben earlier that afternoon along with some other Mohawk and Palatine boys and young warriors and told him to come with him on a patrol around Canajoharie. Ethan had gone with him, welcoming the chance to spend more time with his older cousin. Like Anen:taks, Thayendanegea spent time with him and the other boys his age, helping them learn different skills. Because they were from the same clan, both his cousins made it a point to spend time with him especially, helping him learn what would be expected of him someday as a warrior. While the idea of him being a Mohawk warrior was still a little hard for Ethan to think about, it wasn't as hard as it had been in the beginning.

There were many things that were easier than it was in the beginning for Ethan to accept or understand. The Mohawk language was becoming easier for him to understand, especially when people spoke slowly in it, and he was beginning to feel more comfortable speaking it. He had made plenty of embarrassing mistakes with it, but no one seemed to mind. Of course, Olivia was nearly fluent in it by this point, able to speak much faster and understand it better than he could. But she was so much younger than him too. She sometimes corrected him when he was speaking. "Not that way, Ethan!" She'd say in a sing-song voice. "Like this." Then she'd repeat whatever he had been saying the right way. It was a little annoying, but it made her happy so he tried to humor her.

Ethan had also begun to feel more comfortable with the rhythm of life in Canajoharie. It was surprising in some ways how similar things were in Canajohaire as they had been in Boston while at the same time being very different in other ways. Nearly two months ago, at Christmastime, Ongewasgone and Tsiron:iare had taken them to hear a sermon preached by a circuit rider preacher who had come before to Canajoharie and preached to the Mohawk and Palatines alike. It wasn't so different than attending church in Boston in many ways. Later, on Christmas Eve though, they had joined Tsiron:iare's Palatine tenants, the Hoffmans, in helping decorate a Christmas tree which Ethan and Olivia had never seen before. It seemed strange at first to have an evergreen tree in the house. But the Hoffmans had explained that it was a tradition from their homeland and was a key symbol in their Christmas celebration. They had shown them how to decorate it with strings of popcorn and dried cranberries, and small carved wooden animals. Then to top it off, small candles were tied to the branches and lit so that the tree was covered in the glow of candlelight. Both Ethan and Olivia had been stunned by how beautiful it looked, so much so that Tsiron:iare had promised them that next year they would have one in their own house. The next day had been Christmas, and they had all celebrated with a large feast in the Palisade. Mohawk drums and flutes were played alongside violins and lutes, and songs were sung in Mohawk, German and English alike. Sometimes during it, Ethan strangely felt that he was back in Boston at one of Mother and Father's parties even though it was very different from them.

Trying to focus on the present, Ethan looked over at Thayendanegea and wondered how he should ask his question. He was a little intimidated by him, as he was with Anen:taks, even though both of his cousins had been nothing but kind and welcoming to him. But Thayendanegea had an especially bold personality, and already showed signs of being a natural leader despite his young age. Ethan had learned that he had joined other Mohawk warriors with the English forces on their campaign to Fort Carillion the past summer and that he would join them again in the summer season. Thinking it over again, Ethan decided to just ask already. "What is it like being in battle?"

Thayendanegea paused and looked over at Tekariho:ken. The boy's face appeared neutral but his eyes showed the curiosity behind his question. He thought for a moment, thinking of how best to answer his cousin's question. It wasn't necessarily a simple one. Becoming a warrior was the natural path for a Mohawk male, and as such, battle was an inevitable part of that. But at the same time, as he had learned over the past summer, no matter how much preparation one had, being in an actual battle was different. You were putting yourself in a situation where either life or death were the only outcomes. He motioned for them to continue walking as he answered, keeping his gaze on the forest. "It is hard. Death is all around you, and you don't know if it will come for you. You see your kinsmen around you fighting and you know the likelihood that not all of them will make it out alive. You may not make it out either and you have to face that too." He looked at Tekariho:ken who listened intently. "But this is our path as Kanienkehaka." He finished. His cousin nodded, looking back out at the forest even as Thayendanegea knew he was still thinking it over. But it was enough for now.

Circling back around, they began to make their way back up the road that led to the palisade. They were only about halfway there when they were met by a small group of Mohawks fitted out for travel, including Ona:to, Anen:taks and Ongewasgone, who carried an extra journey bag slung over his shoulders. "One of our Oneida brothers has brought news of a war party close to us. They are not many, but it is best we go to them rather than wait here." Ongewasgone told them. He motioned to Thayendanegea. "You should stay here with the others at the palisade." Thayendanegea nodded and continued walking up the road as Ongewasgone turned to Ethan. "Here." He said, taking off the extra journey bag and placing it over his shoulders. "Your mother packed this for you since we might not be back until the morning." "Nia:wen." Ethan said, surprised that Ongewasgone had chosen him to accompany them over Thayendanegea who was older and had experience. But at the same time, he couldn't help feeling pleased that he wanted him along. "There's a pair of warmer moccasins in there for you." Ongewasgone continued. "Put them on and put your other pair in your bag." Ethan did so, grateful that Tsiron:iare had thought to include them. While he had yet to call either Ongewasgone or Tsiron:iare Mother or Father, he had come to feel that they were his parents in some ways. It wasn't something that he had really thought about lately though. It was what it was.

As the group began to move out of the settlement, Ongewasgone walked alongside Ethan and Ona:to. "If there is trouble, both of you need to try and stay towards the rear of the group or wherever the safest place is if it is possible." He told them. "You are several years away still from being warriors, and this should mainly be an observation lesson for you." Ethan nodded, relieved in a way until he caught Ona:to's eye who looked disappointed and who was rolling his eyes slightly at him. 'Does he think we are still babies?' Ethan caught onto his friend's frustration until he noticed Ongewasgone looking sternly at them both. Immediately agreeing to what he had said, they continued their trek into the winter woods.

"Tesarahtat!" The word came out of Ethan and Ona:to's mouths almost simultaneously as they both stumbled down into the fray. Everything had happened so fast. The world around him had turned into a blur of war cries, grunts and the sound of metal upon metal mixed with the cracking noise of musket and rifle reports. Landing on his feet, Ethan looked frantically around for Ona:to, who had disappeared from sight after they had been forced out from behind the boulder they had been crouched behind on Ongewasgone's orders when they had come upon the war party. A French Irregular had found them, and Ethan had tripped him with his leg while Ona:to had sunk his tomahawk into his neck. Both of them had been stunned at their first kill. But then they had been for forced into the thick of the fight, and Ethan couldn't tell where he was. He couldn't see Anen:taks and he couldn't see where Ongewasgone was either. A Huron warrior caught sight of him, and he came at him, his long knife raised. Ethan froze for a moment and then he dodged, only to feel the blade of the knife graze his shoulder. Suddenly, the Huron warrior stumbled and fell, a Mohawk bullet ending his life. Thayendanegea's words rang through his mind. ' Death is all around you, and you don't know if it will come for you.'

Ethan heard a cry from further up ahead in the ravine. It was high-pitched, like Olivia's. He heard the name Chingachgook. Hawkeye's father was here? They had been attacked? Looking frantically over as he dodged the Mohawk warriors fighting hand-to-hand now with the Huron and the French, he saw Ongewasgone heading towards the sound of the cry. Moving faster, he saw a horse with a strange type of sled behind it, and two young girls crouched around it. A Huron warrior was grappling with another man on the ground. The other man's head twisted and he saw a snake tattoo. It was him. Without thinking, Ethan took his knife from his belt and threw it towards the Huron warrior's head. It wasn't a good throw. Ethan winced as he saw only the handle hit the back of the warrior's head. But suddenly, the Huron was lying dead on the ground and Chingachgook was on his feet again. The noise was dying down from around him, and Ethan saw that Ongewasgone was beside him, making his way with him to Chingachgook and the two little girls that were embracing him. Ongewasgone didn't say anything to him, but gave him a firm pat on his back and pausing for a moment, gestured to his chest, taking in and letting out a deep breath. Ethan didn't realize until that moment that he felt lightheaded and dizzy.

Chingachgook clasped Ongewasgone's forearm when they reached him, offering his thanks. Ongewasgone nodded, but turned to Ethan and smiled slightly, wearing the proudest and most loving look that Ethan had ever seen on his face as he motioned to him. Ethan blinked. For a moment, it was as though he was seeing Father's face when he had found out that he had finished first in his class with his mathematics exam. He almost didn't feel Chingachgook's arm as it gripped his forearm or hear his words of thanks. Only when he heard Father's-no, Ongewasgone's voice in his ear, saying, "Grip his forearm, riien:'a," was he able to respond. Chingachgook's eyes looked at him with solemn gratitude and kindness, but there was warmth there too, especially as he drew in the two girls and introduced him as his granddaughters. He bowed to them both, the habit engrained in him as proper etiquette. They were like him, Olivia and Hawkeye were, but that was all that registered in Ethan's mind. Before he knew it, they were heading back towards Canajoharie. As he passed near the horse with the sled that apparently carried a wounded man, one of the little girls bent down and tugged on his coat. "Thank you for saving Machom Chingachgook." He looked up at her, Margaret, he remembered her name was and saw the thankfulness and joy in her hazel eyes that were still wide from all they had been through. But still, she was content, knowing that she was with those who loved her as their own despite the fact that she hadn't been born to them. "You're welcome, miss." He said, thinking ruefully back to Olivia's insistence on correcting his Mohawk. 'Maybe little kids know things better than we big ones do sometimes after all."

"We killed today." Ona:to said finally to Ethan a bit dully as they made their way back home. "Hen." Ethan said just as dully back, not knowing what else to say. It was true after all. Shortly after they had started on their way, Ona:to had come up alongside him as he had fallen to the back of the line, much to Ethan's relief. He hadn't known what had happened to his friend during the attack. But as it turned out, none of the Mohawks or the Mohican and Delaware party had lost anyone although several were wounded. Anen:taks was helping support one of the Delaware men-Alunsakw, Ethan suddenly remembered his name-who had an injured leg although the wound was not too deep. In fact, no one's wounds appeared severe from what Ethan could tell around him. But despite all that, neither Ona:to or Ethan felt like talking much.

Ethan felt relieved that Ona:to seemed as unsure of how to feel about it as he did. Since Mohawk boys were expected to become warriors, they knew that killing would be required someday of them as part of that. It was a sign of honor to be brave in battle and to defend the Kanienkehaka and their allies. But it was easy to know that and yet hard once you had to actually do it. The French Irregular would've killed them both and they knew it. They had had no choice. But knowing that didn't make it easier.

Ethan felt a hand on his shoulder and out of the corner of his eye saw another one on Ona:to's shoulder. Anen:taks had switched places helping Alunsakw with another man and had come up behind them. "You did well today, younger brothers." He told them quietly. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." Ethan and Ona:to glanced at each other, now feeling embarrassed. They shouldn't be feeling this way. They were going to be full-fledged warriors someday and would have to get used to it. "Maybe your father was right and we are still like babies." Ona:to said under his breath to Ethan.

Anen:taks forced them to stop. "You are not like babies. You are not yet old enough to be full-fledged warriors but today you showed the qualities of one. You have compassion and respect for life, but also the courage to do what you have to do, all necessary things for honorable warriors to have. There is never shame in that." He told them firmly. Ethan stood still as his cousin talked. His words reminded him of what Thayendanegea had told him earlier that day. He felt better hearing the reminder, and he could tell that Ona:to did too. But suddenly, Ethan was aware of a throbbing pain in his shoulder and a sticky fluid running down his arm and out of the arm of his coat and onto the snow. "You're wounded." He heard Anen:taks say, his voice concerned as he called out to Ongewasgone. He was at the front of the line, but now he came back quickly. Ethan hadn't felt his shoulder hurting until that moment. But he couldn't help grimacing through his teeth as Ongewasgone probed at the wound through the torn buckskin and fur lining of his coat where the Huron blade had gone through. "Not too deep." Ongewasgone's voice was relieved. "But it will need to be sutured as soon as we reach home." He took out a hide pouch containing ointment from his bag and rubbed it into the wound before drawing his knife and cutting off a strip of his shirt to bind it. After he had tied it off, he reached up and touched Ethan's head gently, the same proud, loving look in his eyes that had stunned Ethan earlier. Ongewasgone was not Father. But he was his father.

"Just like that, little one." Tsiron:iare watched as Olivia took the softened quills out of her mouth, pulling them between her teeth to flatten them. Her daughter held them up, her small face eager for approval. Tsiron:iare looked them over carefully. "Iawekon ken, Ista?" "Hen." Tsionr:iare said, giving her a kiss on the forehead while Olivia beamed. She placed the quills carefully back into her cupped hands. They were deep purple, a shade that she and Olivia had worked hard to get from powered indigo leaves, and would be used to create a beautiful floral design on a deerskin sash for Olivia. Moving closer to her daughter to begin showing her the basics of quillwork embroidery, Tsiron:iare embraced the warm feeling of being able to show her the things that her own mother, aunts and grandmothers had taught her when she was young. It was almost enough to take away the trickle of fear that kept going through her mind.

'I hope Ongewasgone and Tekariho:ken will be home soon.' Even though he had said that it might not be until morning, she couldn't help hoping that her husband and son would walk through the door sooner rather than later.

Ongewasgone hadn't seem overly concerned when he had left the house early that afternoon. She had already heard the news about the war party and had figured that her husband would be party of the counter party going to face them. She hadn't necessarily expected him to take their son though and she had told him as much. But she also agreed with him that he needed to begin to experience the life of a Kanienkehaka warrior, which he would be in only a few short years. "We will take care of him, my love." He had assured her. "Ona:to will be there too and they will be observers." Tsiron:iare knew that, but at the same time she knew that there was no way to guaranty that the boys would only be observers. Anything could happen in a battle or raid. A draft moved through the main room of the house where she and Olivia were sitting together near the fireplace. She shivered a bit, thinking of the deep snow and the chilly wind outside. 'All the more reason for them to be home sooner.'

A welcoming shout came from outside and Tsiron:iare got to her feet and looked out at the window, Olivia tagging along behind her. "Are they back, Ista?" Tsiron:iare saw the familiar faces illuminated with torchlight and pressed a hand against her daughter's shoulder to still her anxious bouncing. "They are!" She said, reaching down to hug Olivia only to miss her as she ran out to the front hall of the house. "Wait, Otsi'tsa'ko:wa. You can't go out without your cape and mittens." She brought them to her daughter and helped her bundle up against the cold. After wrapping herself up as well, she opened the door and stepped outside into the cold night. Others in Canajoharie had come outside as well to welcome the party back, and from what Tsiron:iare could tell from quickly looking around, there were no sounds of mourning or distress. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Ongewasgone coming near her, but her heart fell when she saw a half-asleep Ethan being supported by him, a bloodied shoulder and torn buckskin coat plain to see in the torchlight. "What happened?!" She said as he reached her, her hands already on their son, trying to get a better look at his wound. "He will be all right." Ongewasgone tried to reassure her. "It's not a deep cut, but it will need suturing." He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment and then looked proudly at Ethan. "Our son has brought pride to our family and people tonight. He helped save Chingachgook by throwing a knife and distracting the Huron who was attacking him." He said. Out of the corner of her eye, Tsiron:iare saw Chingachgook with a bandaged cheek holding a horse's reins with Juliet and another little girl sitting on it. Momentarily distracted, she heard herself giving them a proper welcome and bringing them into the house to rest. But her mind was quickly consumed again with the need to tend properly to Ethan.

Ethan was almost fully asleep as Tsiron:iare gently stroked his curly head after trimming the spare gut that was left over after suturing his wound. She hoped the sleeping draught would help him sleep through the night, he looked so tired. Everyone had been. Knowing that she needed to tend to their son, Ongewasgone had helped settle their guests with Olivia helping him. Distracted as she was with Ethan, Tsiron: iare couldn't help but smile as she went up the stairs with how Ongewasgone got down to their daughter's eyelevel and told her very seriously albeit with a big smile on his face how he needed her to help with everyone. Olivia had giggled and agreed. 'Our children are a blessing.' Tsiron: iare thought as she continued to stroke her son's hair. His face grimaced slightly in his sleep and she removed her hand, worried that it was causing him discomfort. But the grimace grew deeper once her hand was gone, so she resumed stroking. She looked at his face, relieved to see that his features were relaxing again. Ethan was slowly adapting to their family and culture still but he was far from the angry and resentful boy that he had been when he had first arrived in Canajoharie. He was even beginning to show signs of enjoying his new life, learning from his older cousins and father and letting himself be integrated into the community. She remembered the first time that she had heard him laugh, as he chased Olivia down the upstairs hall and down the stairs pretending to be an enormous, hungry bear. The sound of their shrieks and laughter had made her smile even as her eyes pricked with tears. But they had been happy ones.

"Ho, ho watanay. Ho, ho watanay. Ho, ho watanay. Ki-yo-ki-na. Ki-yo-ki-na." She sang gently, hoping the lullaby would soothe him into a deep sleep. "Sleep, sleep, my little one. Sleep, sleep, my little one. Sleep, sleep, my little one. Sleep now, Sleep now." She continued to sing, alternating in Mohawk and English. Finally she stopped, seeing Ethan's breathing turn deep and even. Making sure that the quilt and blankets were evenly pulled around him, she got up to leave. Opening the door, she looked back to make sure that he was still asleep only to see that Ethan's eyes were now halfway open and he was giving her a weak, tired smile. "Nia:wen, Ista." He said drowsily before falling back asleep.

Ista. 'He called me Ista! He called me Mother." Waves of joy ran over Tsiron:iare as she stood still at the door. Ethan had never done that before now. She had longed for it, hoped that someday he would acknowledge her as his mother by calling her Ista. Now it had happened. Tears began running down her face, and part of her longed to embrace her son, while telling him how much she loved him and how proud she was of him. But he needed his rest. Slipping out of the door quietly, she made her way to her own room and shut the door beside her. Ongewasgone had waited up for her, and he wrapped her in his arms. "Are you all right? Is our son?" He asked, though his voice suggested he knew why she was crying. Tsiron:iare nodded. "He-he called me Ista." She said, her voice breaking again. Her husband patted her back as he pulled away a bit. "I thought he might." He said, and a smile bloomed on his face. "He called me Rakeni on the way home." Tsiron:iare smiled back at her husband as she wiped the last of the tears away from her eyes. At last, their son had accepted them as his parents.

Ethan gritted his teeth as he narrowed his eyes on his target, a small rabbit that was hopping through the snow. It was small from the winter, but it would provide meat and fur. Releasing his breath, he let the arrow fly. It hit the rabbit with a soft thunk, causing the rabbit to fall over dead in mid hop. He waited a moment, before going out to retrieve it. When he returned, his father smiled and patted him on the back. "Well done, riien:'a." He looked carefully at Ethan's shoulder, pressing his fingers against where he had been wounded. "Does it hurt?" Ethan shook his head. "No, Rakeni." Ethan assured him. His shoulder had almost healed though it was still a bit sore at times. This was the first time in nearly two weeks that Ongewasgone had let him accompany him and some of the other men and boys on a hunt. He had been glad to be able to get out of the house and back into the forest. It had almost surprised him how he had missed it.

Chingachgook came up beside them, several beavers in his hand that he had taken from traps that he had set earlier. The two Delaware warriors who had been with him on their trip to Canajoharie, Alunsakw and Shaonaxen, were with him as well. Alunsakw's leg was healing well although he was moving slowly and carefully as it continued to heal. Shaonaxen carried their prize, a good sized buck, over his shoulders. The other men and boys of the group joined them and they began walking towards home. Ethan looked around, seeing what everyone had taken on the trip. Anen:taks had an elk and so did Thayendanegea. Gunter had a brace of turkeys in hand. Ona:to and Ben both had a rabbit like he did but theirs were bigger than his. Ethan couldn't help but feel embarrassed at his contribution. Chingachgook moved closer to him. "Don't feel embarrassed, Tekariho:ken." He told him. "Your rabbit is fine, it will provide meat for your mother to cook with and a skin for you to have something made with or trade with." Ethan nodded, knowing that he was right but it was hard not to compare himself to the other boys, especially those his age. Chingachgook continued. "You remind me of my youngest son, Uncas, when he was your age." He chuckled, even as his expression turned a bit sad. "How he wanted to be like his older brother Hawkeye. I had to remind him that he would be as good as his brother someday and possibly even better in some ways. But it takes time. I remember the first time he took the best pelt of the winter, a large silver fox. Hawkeye ended up having to pay up some silver to him that year." Ethan chuckled with him, glad for the distraction. Everyone had been saying things to him like that about being patient and growing in his new skills. But it still wasn't easy.

Chingachgook was happy that he could cheer up Ethan a little. It was a distraction for him as well. While it was good to be in Canajoharie with their friends, he longed for news of Hawkeye and Cora and their friends at the Winthrop farm. No news had come yet, and with the threat of raids still out there, he hadn't felt comfortable asking their Mohawk or Palatine friends to send a messenger. He tried hard to believe that no news was good news. After all, news of a large raid on a group of the English militia would spread quickly on the frontier even in the wintertime. Jack had already been talking of going but between him, Alunsakw, Shaonaxen and Ongewasgone he had managed to convince him to stay put for now. There was no way he was fit to travel yet as he couldn't even walk for long without being in significant pain.

When they re-entered Canajoharie and arrived back at Ongewasgone and Tsiron:iare's home, they were greeted by Juliet, Olivia and Margaret who held something behind her back while they all giggled excitedly. "We have something for you, Ethan." Juliet said, with a flourish in Margaret's direction who took out what she had been hiding. It was a deerskin strap, designed to help hold a rifle or musket, and embroidered in a beautiful geometric design of purple, red and blue quills. "To thank you for saving Machom Chingachgook!" Margaret said, and held it out to him as both Juliet and Olivia clapped. Ethan took it in his free hand, surprised and pleased at the girls' thoughtfulness. He had seen them busily working away on something with Ista for the last several days but they would quickly stop and hide it whenever he was around. But he hadn't guessed it was something for him. "Thank you, but I don't have a rifle or musket of my own yet." He said, and then inwardly winced when he realized that it didn't sound very grateful. He felt a hand on his back and turned to look guiltily at his father who only laughed before saying, "You will soon enough. You are almost ready for one." Then he was laughing too, partly in excitement and partly in happiness as they entered the house all together.

kahwen:kare: snow shoes

Satatennikon:raren, ri'ken:a'.: Take care, my younger brother.

Nia:wen: Thank you.

Tesarahtat: Run

riien:'a: my son

Hen: Yes

Kanienkehaka: People of the Flint, traditional name for the Mohawk

Iawekon ken, Ista?: Is it good, Mother?

Ista: Mother

Rakeni: Father

The song Tsiron:iare sings to Ethan is a traditional Mohawk lullaby.

A big thank you to BrynnaRaven for letting me pick her brain endlessly about the fine details of quillwork; unfortunately I wasn't able to fit in all the information into the chapter but I'm sure I will use it in later parts of the story!

At long last, Ethan has come mostly to terms with his new life, culture and family. That's not to say that there won't still be some challenges ahead (he is a stubborn one after all) but he has come to recognize his new family as what they are: his family. It was important to me that this acceptance as part of the stages of grief come about naturally, and I hope that I succeeded with this. He's had more than half a year at this point to come to accept and see how his new parents and larger community love and care for him so it seemed right (especially after the events in this chapter) that he would call Tsiron:iare and Ongewasgone his mother and father. The reason for him being willing and able to think of people like Anen:taks and Thayendanegea as his cousins and feel comfortable doing that before is because he didn't have those before really (at least not his own age) and it's easier for him to accept people that he doesn't feel he's "replacing." But after truly seeing over time how much his new parents love him (and aren't trying to take the place of his birth parents), he's able to love and respect them as his Ista and Rakeni.

Speaking of Thayendangea (Joseph Brant), I worried it was too much to have a major historical figure be in this story and becoming a mentor figure as well as cousin to Ethan but thanks to EmoryRose's encouragement, I was able to go with it. After all, no one knows who he "is" or will be yet and he is just a teenage boy at this point. As a fellow member of the Wolf Clan and cousin to Ethan, it seemed likely given their culture that he would be involved in some form or fashion with helping to teach Ethan the skills he will need as a warrior. In real life, Joseph Brant really was on the failed campaign to Fort Carillion in the summer of 1758 and experienced the realities of warfare which is one of the reasons I chose to have him and Ethan discuss that on their patrol. It's also true that at this time in history, Mohawk men made their reputations as warriors, traders and diplomats (more on those two latter things in the story) and thus Ethan would be expected to take on those types of roles in due time as a part of their community. On another note, I wanted to capture the blending of cultures that occurred in Canajoharie at this time (along with other native villages and frontier settlements). That's why my characters celebrated Christmas, and blended traditions from both the Palatine and Mohawk cultures. Christmas trees are originally from German cultures, and didn't become a "thing" in other cultures including Western ones until the mid-1800's. So that's why Ethan and Olivia had never seen one before.

While half of our family is safe in Canajoharie, the other half is still somewhere in parts unknown (well, we know but our characters here don't) and no one knows what has happened to them yet. That will be revealed in the next FAWH chapter and we will see a big reunion at the end (don't want to give away too much thought).

Stay tuned!